Latin Tongue

© armmypicca, 123RF Free Images

A very common tendency among young people who intend to go to medical school is to take Latin during high school. It is so common that a reference to this tendency was featured on a recent episode of The Pitt. As it turns out, I took 2 years of Latin in high school, in anticipation of going to medical school. Though I don’t remember much from my two years of high school Latin, having a knowledge of Latin helped out tremendously while I attended medical school.

That’s because:

  • I internalized roots, prefixes, and suffixes
  • I got comfortable with unfamiliar word structures
  • I learned to infer meaning instead of memorizing blindly

That “mental framework” sticks even when the formal knowledge fades.

1. The language of medical terminology
A huge portion of medical vocabulary is derived from Latin and Greek. Words like cardiology (cardio = heart, Greek; -logy = study of) or renal (Latin renes = kidneys) are essentially built from these roots. When you’ve studied Latin, you’re not just memorizing terms—you’re decoding them.

So instead of rote memorization, you instinctively break words apart:

  • hepatosplenomegaly → liver + spleen + enlargement
  • subcutaneous → under + skin

That gives you a major efficiency advantage in medical school, where the vocabulary load is enormous.

2. Precision and consistency in communication
Medicine depends on extremely precise language. Latin (and Greek) provides a standardized, unchanging base. Unlike modern languages, Latin isn’t evolving, so terms don’t shift in meaning over time. That stability is why anatomical structures and diagnoses are still named this way worldwide.

3. Anatomy is basically Latin immersion
Anatomy in particular is saturated with Latin:

  • foramen magnum
  • corpus callosum

If you’ve had Latin, even at a basic level, these aren’t just intimidating strings—they’re descriptive phrases. That makes learning anatomy feel more logical and less arbitrary.

4. Training your brain for pattern recognition
Latin study emphasizes grammar, structure, and parsing complex sentences. That skill translates surprisingly well to medicine:

  • analyzing symptoms → like parsing a sentence
  • recognizing patterns → like identifying word roots and endings

It builds a kind of mental discipline that helps with clinical reasoning and absorbing dense information.

5. Historical tradition (that still lingers)
Medicine in Europe was formalized when Latin was the language of scholarship. Universities, early medical texts, and anatomical naming conventions all used Latin. Even though modern education has moved on, the terminology never got replaced—so the legacy persists.

Of Orifices and Zero Freedom

As a physician, I have had the incredible honor and privilege of studying every part of the human body, to the most minute detail. I have hovered over cadavers which were fileted and displayed for they eyes of inquisitive medical students, and scrubbed in on colon resections, open heart surgery, neurosurgery, cataract removal, etc. During my first month of internship as a newly minted physician, I massaged a dying heart with my gloved hands (no, the patient didn’t survive). I have also delivered over 40 infants via vaginal and Cesarean methods, and have pronounced the demise of patients in the wards. In fact, there are many stories I have collected over the years, some incredibly sad, some disgusting, some frightening, and some infuriating, but all true, and all part of my experience as a doctor.

I knew full well that by signing up for an education in medicine, I would be subjected to disgusting, morbid, frightening things, and that I would face mortality on a regular basis. However, after several years of working in family practice, I began to notice that I wasn’t thrilled with the fact that I examined orifices of every kind on a very regular basis. Whether it was a nostril, a mouth, an ear canal, an anus, a urethral meatus (layman’s term pee-hole), or vagina I had to examine, I was never thrilled about it, and the orifices below the belt were certainly much more bothersome to address. My intense dislike of such examinations, combined with the tedium of primary care and the low insurance reimbursement for services and procedures provided, caused me to retreat from primary care and focus more on the areas I had more interest in, namely, physical medicine, cosmetic dermatology, and anti-aging medicine, all of which are much cleaner and which do not require me to conduct examinations on private parts.

Another feature of primary care which made me cringe was the intense demand on a practitioner’s time. The only time it ever seemed reasonable for me to literally lose sleep night after night as a physician was when I was in training. At this point, there is no way you could convince me that such a thing is healthy, and I refuse to sign up for that. I won’t give up weekends to take on three stacked 12-hour work shifts, and I will not give up the few holidays I celebrate (Thanksgiving, Christmas Eve, Christmas Day, New Year’s Eve, and New Year’s Day) in order to work. As it is, I give up other major holidays to work, but since the work I perform on those holidays is in bodybuilding and fitness, I don’t mind it at all.

I love being a physician, and I find it incredibly rewarding to make a positive impact on my patients. However, I will not sacrifice balance in my life, or the freedom to pursue my other interests, in order to prove to society what a good physician I am. I don’t believe for a second that running oneself into the ground working as a physician ever sends a positive message to others. I don’t ever want to be the kind of doctor who is saddled with so many chart notes to write that an entire weekend is devoted to completing them. Not for me.

Lasty, I think it’s so strange that society still assumes that doctors are supposed to give their time and knowledge at a moment’s notice, on demand, yet I don’t see those same demands placed on people in other industries. I can’t tell you how many times I have been in a brief conversation with a complete stranger, who dares to ask me a medical question as soon as my profession is revealed. I swear, one of these days I am going to get a t-shirt made that says, “THE DOCTOR IS OFF-DUTY RIGHT NOW…NO MEDICAL QUESTIONS PLEASE”!